As usual, when it comes to Robert B. Parker’s Spenser books, I liked this one, the 29th in the series. For some reason that I can’t quite put my finger on, I didn’t get into it as much as I had expected to, but it was still an enjoyable read.
Boston defense attorney Rita Fiore is representing a woman named Mary Smith, who has been accused of murdering her husband, Nathan. Rita doesn’t think Mary is guilty, but there’s no evidence that someone else killed Nathan, and Mary doesn’t have a realistic alibi. Mary is also, to put it politely, as dumb as a rock. Rita hires Spenser to investigate and potentially clear Mary’s name.
Spenser’s investigation not only leads him to a number of unsavory characters with connections to Nathan and/or Mary, but it also leads to more deaths. Meanwhile, Mary is no help whatsoever in the investigation, and Spenser finds himself stuck with few answers.
As Susan Silverman knows, this is not unusual for Spenser. “‘But you have a plan,’ Susan said. ‘I always have a plan,’ I said. ‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘I’ll bet you plan to keep blundering along annoying people, and see what happens.’ ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘You shrinks can really read a guy.’ ‘Magical, isn’t it,’ she said.”
Later, he tells Rita how frustrating the investigation is: “‘Every time I turn over a rock, there’s three more rocks.’” But as Spenser fans know, he will eventually turn over the right rock and find an answer—even if, as Spenser fans also know, the answer may put Spenser in a position that’s legally or morally ambiguous.
Actually, the complexity of the case—the number of rocks Spenser needs to turn over—was a little frustrating to me too, and it may be the primary reason why I downgraded the book from four stars to three. It was, in my opinion, just a little too complicated.
But I also loved some aspects of the book. It was fun to watch Spenser’s relationship with Rita. They have a history and have a lot of professional respect for each other. But Rita is beautiful (of course), and she never loses an opportunity to come on to Spenser sexually. It’s a game that appears to be fun for both of them, and it’s fun for the reader.
There are also some great scenes with Hawk. On the serious side, when Spenser is unsuccessfully trying to persuade a witness that she’s in danger, Hawk speaks up and says if she’s not careful (I’m paraphrasing), she’s going to get killed. “She was tough, but it rocked her. Hawk saying it made it somehow more forceful. I have often wondered how he got that effect, and I have finally concluded that it is because he doesn’t care. Doesn’t care if she believes him. Doesn’t care if they kill her, too.”
Of course, there are the requisite, but always fun, scenes in which Spenser and Hawk try to outdo each other with witty comments. One that stands out is Hawk’s sendup of Spenser’s insistence on using “whom” when most people in casual conversation would say “who.” Who’s schooling whom?
I have always been firmly in the “oh no not Susan again” camp, but in this one, Susan is both helpful and sympathetic. Not only does she help Spenser shape his thoughts about the case, but she shares with him her feelings about having lost a patient to suicide. For once, Susan is depicted not as little more than Spenser’s ideal love object but as is a real person with her own needs, giving their relationship a sharing, give-and-take quality that’s an asset to the story.